


Such A Waste Of Time To Think That Anybody Knows Me Like You Do

by milkteas



Category: ARGONAVIS from BanG Dream! AAside (Video Game)
Genre: Aroace Tsubaki Yamato, Blanket Forts, Dialogue Light, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I literally have no idea what to tag this as it's just these lads being cute, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Stargazing, Surprises, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkteas/pseuds/milkteas
Summary: A compilation of mundane moments in AAside couples’ lives. Nothing special but entirely special.-Order that they are read in: NayuKen, YuuWata, RyoReon, RioBanRen, MisaFuu
Relationships: Akebono Ryo/Misono Reon, Asahi Nayuta/Satozuka Kenta, Goryo Yuto/Matoba Wataru, Goto Misaki/Kaminoshima Futa, Hayasaka Kohei/Wakakusa Aoi, Shiroishi Banri/Nanahoshi Ren/Kikyo Rio, implied
Kudos: 8





	Such A Waste Of Time To Think That Anybody Knows Me Like You Do

It was late.

Kenta wasn’t sure what time it was, but he sure hoped Nayuta had eaten dinner by now. He debated saving some of his own for him but decided that wouldn’t be a good idea because he’d have to force him to eat, anyway, but there was still a little twang of regret lingering over him. 

This was the third night in a row that Nayuta had decided to stay at the studio later after Gyroaxia practice; half out of breath as he pushed everyone who told him to come home and rest his voice away, falling into yet another rabbit hole of singing until he quite literally ran out of breath. It worried him, Nayuta’s ways, but Kenta knew that deep down in his heart he was doing this to improve himself and his own talents. 

But was staying in the studio to practice alone after hours of practice worth the detriment to his health? 

That was something that Kenta knew the answer to, but something that Nayuta wouldn’t listen to. 

He’d only shut him down and tell him he was worrying too much.

Because, yeah, he did worry. 

With a sigh, the guitarist rested his chin in his now warm hands and peered into the distance, looking as hard as he could to find an angry looking figure in the distance. He would make out little obscurities in the darkness, ones that seemed almost uncanny with how familiar yet unfamiliar they looked; so close to the man he knew all too well but vastly different entirely. It felt funny and almost like an anticlimax; one that built up so much excitement and hope that something great were to happen, and that everything would be okay, and that he could go inside and make a late night coffee for his love and then cuddle up together in bed, and everything would be okay. But it wasn’t. Nothing was okay because those obscurities would morph into something new, a tree, a lamp post, a mailbox, and Nayuta would slip through his fingers once again.

It felt funny, odd, uncomfortable.

Kenta didn’t like it at all. It made him slightly more anxious with every. Single. Obscurity. 

_Come home, come home, come home. It’s late and it’s cold._

It was late to the point where the only light surrounding him was the small, round light above the staircase he sat on, moths bumping into it in hopes of gathering all of its warmth for themselves, and the natural light of the moon and stars above him. It was cold, too, a crisp winter night that Reon surely complained about before cuddling up to Ryo’s side in search of warmth and promptly falling asleep there. It was so cold that Kenta regretted even sitting outside, he could have waited in their shared bedroom like he always did, but there was just something different about waiting for his boyfriend outside, something much more romantic, something that could show Nayuta how much he cared about him beyond praising his voice and continuously telling him to rest when he started to lose his breath. 

Kenta’s breath was visible in the space in front of him, expanding into a big, white cloud in front of him that would cause his glasses to fog up if he exhaled too hard. He decided that he had to take his glasses off and place them on the step beside him because he was having a much harder time seeing through the fog than without his glasses at all and, besides, his eyesight wasn’t bad enough that he wouldn’t be able to see his boyfriend when he came home. 

If he ever did. 

He hoped he did. 

It didn’t snow in Tokyo, but with how he was dressed one would be fooled that it did. He had a thick, heavy, tan winter coat wrapped tightly around his thin frame, a woollen turtleneck similar to the one that Reon had been wearing quite frequently recently, a pair of old, denim jeans that looked like they’d been to hell and back with how beaten up they looked, woolen gloves and a pair of thick, tall boots. Not to mention that he most definitely had a few layers underneath that, merino thermals and all. It was cold, too cold, and the coldness of the night time air only heightened it. 

Kenta had absolutely no idea how Ryo did this, how he’d stand out here every night, shirtless on most, and just stare at the stars and do nothing but look with the most joyful expression he’d ever seen as the little twinkles of glitter littered the sky one by one. He’d talk to himself as they all appeared, saying their names as if they were both friends; Jupiter being the one he was the most excited to see. He’d get all jittery and happy when it appeared in the sky, hands fidgeting with each other and in his pockets and foot tapping to the beat of what could be a new song. Ryo’s own song. It brought a certain warmth to the guitarist, a proud, comforting warmth. He was glad that he could find a certain comfort in his surroundings on Earth, especially after the move to Tokyo, but as much as he loved the bassist, there was definitely something weird about him. Standing in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else in the cold, cold winter night was absolutely one of them. 

_I hope Nayuta’s keeping warm._

Theoretically, he could go and pick him up because he did have a car, and that honestly sounded like a good idea because then Nayuta wouldn’t have to walk or find any other means of transport to get home. He’d have to go back inside to get his keys, though, and he was certain that someone would wake up from the sound of him clanking his keys, chucking them in his pocket with a _crash bang crackle_ and then turning his car on, letting it scream vroom vroom into the dead of the night. He could also call a taxi for him. That would be quiet and he could sit on their bed and wait instead of outside where it felt like he was chucked into a freezer; he could wait there knowing that the vocalist would return to him safely.

Thoughts on what to do ranging from transport to ordering warm food swarmed in Kenta’s mind, creating little buzzing sounds that entwined with the whooshing of the wind and tapping of leaves on branches around him, enveloping him in a soothing sound that relaxed his muscles and his mind. The white noise calmed his thoughts, despite his thoughts being part of the white noise itself, and lulled him into a tired state. 

It was late. 

He should go to bed.

It was late.

It was late.

It was…. 

Late….

And then, he was asleep. Head rested against the railing of the staircase in between two pieces of vertical wood that attached themselves to the railing and the stairs themselves, body on a slight angle that implied he had fallen only a little before his head reached the railing and arms criss crossed across his chest, hands tucked into his armpits on a quest to find every bit of warmth that they could find. 

Not much happened around him as it was nearing the middle of the night by now, but every now and then a car would drive past the sharehouse with its lights on full beam, blasting through the darkness as if it were cutting a path through a void. With each and every car that went past, a new image of Nayuta would appear in Kenta’s dreams. A new image of him coming home and into his arms where he would be warm and safe. But every time that car would leave his general vicinity, the image would disappear, poof into nothingness and, again, slipping out of reach.

It was nice, but then it wasn’t. 

An almost nightmare disguised as a dream. 

Numerous versions of the vocalist had appeared and disappeared by now, it had become boring, tiring, frustrating; how many of these will appear before they stop appearing at all? Would they ever stop? Would he ever stop hoping that he would return to him? This was getting tiring, he wasn’t coming home, was he? He’s just gonna stay up all night singing and then immediately crash as soon as he got home in the early morning, wasn’t he? 

But then, a voice. 

One of the Nayutas decided to speak this time instead of burying his head in his shoulder before poofing away. It wasn’t anything special, just a simple, _“Oi, Satozuka,”_ in a disgruntled, annoyed tone, something that had become a thing of comfort for him after being with him for so long. It calmed him, a sense of relaxation washed over him and he was suddenly, entirely at peace. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had slept there for, but it must not have been long at all because when he woke he wasn’t that cold at all; the only coldness on him was an icy hand to his cheek which had clearly been slapped against his skin in an attempt to wake him up.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, idiot,” A grumpy voice spoke up, almost like a whisper, a secret between the two. 

Emerald eyes softened into a pale jade, filling with flickers of forest and yellows from the sun, the flaming star, that was Nayuta above him. With a stretch of his arms and a soft yawn, he replied, “I wanted to. You didn’t say how long you were going to be and I started to worry..” 

“Worry less,” The vocalist grumbled, crossing his arms now, “It’s cold, you could’ve waited for me in bed.” 

The guitarist shrugged softly, a calm expression to match; an expression so filled with love and adoration for the man in front of him. It was no surprise that the two were going to end up together and Miyuki had even admitted that he and Reon had a little bet going on for how long it would take them to get together. Kenta made it unbearably obvious that he was in love with Nayuta, as much as he said it was only his singing that he fell for, there was still a part of him that felt at peace whenever the fire that was Nayuta Asahi was lit. 

And now that that fire was with him in the cold, cold night, he felt so warm. 

And he felt even warmer when he saw Nayuta pull a bottle of cheap red wine and a singular wine glass, one more to add to the collection inside. The vocalist didn’t say anything as he held the glistening bottle and glass out to his boyfriend, only a slightly less irritated expression than usual, and when Kenta hesitated to take the gifts out of surprise that he had even bought him something, an annoyed, “Just take it already!” left Nayuta’s mouth. 

“Didn’t know what type you liked, you just seem to like wine a lot so think of it as,” a pause and a barely visible because of the minimal light - _thank fuck_ \- blush made its way across the silver haired man’s cheeks, causing him to pout and say the final part of the sentence in an almost mumble, “... Think of it as an apology for keeping you waiting…” 

“Nayuta..” Kenta whispered to himself, looking down to the bottle and glass in his hands. Yeah, the wine was cheap and nowhere near his favourite type, he’d tell Nayuta that later, but this gift filled his heart up with so much joy. He opened the bottle and poured himself a glass, “I shouldn’t be drinking this late but I don’t think I’m gonna sleep for a while anyway… Would you like some? I can go inside to grab a glass for you if-”

“I don’t really like wine.”

“Ah, that’s okay then.”

A few moments of silence.

“Hey, Satozu- Kenta…”

Startled by the use of his first name, Kenta looked up to the other with wide eyes, “Hm?”

Reaching forward with the hand that wasn’t holding the bag, Nayuta grabbed Kenta’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently, “You’ll always keep up with me, right? You won’t fall behind - in Gyroaxia, I mean.”

Kenta knew that that didn’t just mean Gyroaxia and that he was using Gyroaxia as a stand in for what he really meant. 

With a soft smile, Kenta nodded, “Of course, I will never fall behind. I’m your right hand man, after all.” 

The vocalist gave another squeeze to his hand and then leant down to press a small kiss to his forehead, a soft motion that would seem completely out of character for big, bad, intimidating Nayuta Asahi who was incapable of love, incapable of loving anything that wasn’t himself or his own sound; but to Kenta that was just normal, the Nayuta he was in love with, “World domination?”

“World domination.” 

-

The sun rose at exactly 6:33AM.

It was one of those strangely warm mornings that felt nothing like the winter that it should have been, one that made you wake up from heat alone, forcing you to push the blankets off only to be met with a chilling air entering your bedroom. One of those mornings where the day couldn’t decide whether it was the middle of summer or the middle of winter, when it was actually the very end of winter to be exact. Too cold to be out and about, but too warm to be stuck in bed all morning. 

There wasn’t a lot of noise outside of the sharehouse, only the faint rustling and bustling of the early morning. People outside were rushing to work as if they had only just hopped out of bed and they needed to get to work right that moment, quickly pacing past the stores that were only just opening and apartment buildings that only had a few curtains open. A few lights on and a lot of curtains shut for a few more hours. 

There was a man who would always run past the sharehouse, someone that the members inside knew well, someone who would wake up an hour before sunrise to run an hour from Nishishinjuku to Shimokitazawa just for the sake of it. They’d heard stories from another friend that he’d return and wake everyone up with the sound of a blender making a smoothie that would fuel him for the rest of the day. They thought that was pretty funny. But he wasn’t important in this moment; nor was the fact that he would sometimes stop by an early-opening soba stall to pick up a couple of croquettes for someone back home. 

The city that they lived in was rather nice. There was always a live band playing at almost every bar on a Friday night and sometimes they’d even play at one, earning cheers from locals and some who had come all the way from their home in Hakodate to see them; an old drummer who felt awfully at home at vinyl cafes being one of the regulars from Hakodate. 

He was proud of them. Of course he was. 

Their home was in an apartment complex right beside a building that was littered in all kinds of colours. An abstract painting that drew the eye into the more finer details on the wall; not intentional details, only details that were made by the natural occurrences in the brick wall and the weathering of the paint as it aged and chipped away with the rain, sun and kids that would sometimes pick at the air bubbles as they waited for their friends inside. It was a beautiful mural. There were many beautiful murals around Shimokitazawa, but the most beautiful ones were the ones you had to squint to find the more finer details in.

Or at least that’s what Wataru liked to believe. 

Yuuto was awake by 6:50am; awoken not by the strange heat beaming through the curtains of his shared room, but by the sound of Rio and Banri rummaging around in the kitchen trying to open a new bag of food for Ponchan. He wasn’t mad at them, but he sure would have enjoyed that last hour of rest wrapped around Wataru’s body, legs tangled and hands clasped tightly together and doing nothing until they absolutely had to get up and go to uni. He knew Wataru was gonna enjoy that extra hour, so instead of trying to get back to sleep and risk missing their alarm he decided to get up and at least start to get ready for the morning. 

So here he was, half an hour later in the kitchen talking to Banri and Rio about the upcoming live in amongst how everything was going for them, to which Banri only grinned and said everything was fantastic in between sips of a glass of full fat milk. It wasn’t a condescending tone that he spoke in, it was genuinely so happy and content with life and even though he knew that he was speaking for Rio, Yuuto knew that Rio felt the same. 

They stood there for a while, talking about everything and anything as Yuuto decided it was the best time to start to make coffee for him and Wataru. Their topics ranged from how they needed to do something about the three empty bedrooms in the sharehouse to how Banri was starting to collect photos of Yuuto falling asleep in chairs with one hand off of the chair and the other holding a hat on his chest. Yuuto told him to stop taking those photos and to stop saying he looked like an old man when he did it, but there was something about it that he thought was funny, amusing. 

He’d definitely tell Wataru about it when he went back to their room. 

A slice of lemon was added to one of the coffee cups and Yuuto was then off to their room again, cups in hand and saying a silent prayer that Ponchan wouldn’t run around his legs again and cause him to spill the hot drinks all over their freshly cleaned wooden floors. That would be a pain to clean up and with how close their bedroom was to the kitchen, he risked waking Wataru up and even though he was pretty sure he was already awake by now, there was still that lingering fear that he wasn’t and any slight sound could wake him at any moment. 

Thankfully, Yuuto watched as Ponchan’s little feet went _pon pon pon_ into Rio, Banri and Ren’s room. Presumably to snuggle up close to Ren and steal his warmth until he needed to get up.

The door to their bedroom was slightly open from when he had left previously, something that made walking into the room with two hands full a lot easier; there had been way too many instances where he’d closed the door entirely to avoid Ponchan entering their room unprompted and waking Wataru with his little feet scurrying all on the bed and his heavy huffing and puffing echoing through the room. But thankfully, that had never actually happened with how much he seemed to love Ren’s attention and he could leave the door slightly open so that he could gently push it open with his hip and present a cup of coffee to his boyfriend. 

Wataru was sitting up against the plush, grey headboard with a few pillows at his hips to give a little extra comfort, phone in hand as he scrolled through social media threads about his favourite musicians and updates on his friends' lives and what they had been up to in the past few days. They often got busy with Argonavis and uni work that they never really got a chance to keep up with their friends in Hakodate and, to add onto all of that, LR Fes was soon and Argonavis work was piling up more and more with every second of their lives.

It was tiring, exhausting, they never really got a chance to breathe, but this is what they always wanted to do.

They could win this festival.

It was fate. Their meeting was fate.

It took Wataru only a few moments to realise that Yuuto was standing at the door just watching him in this comfortable state where he looked like he could fall asleep at any given moment, but was keeping himself awake because he absolutely needed to get ready to leave soon. His muscles relaxed as he turned to Yuuto, registering that he was there and that he had made him coffee just the way that he liked it; lemon and all. The look on his face was absolutely full of love and adoration for the brunette, eyebrows turned upwards and dimples slowly caving in his chubby cheeks, causing his eyes to smile softly and match the one his lips made. He was beaming. He was glowing. 

Yuuto thought that he was always glowing. 

Wataru thought that was a lie. 

Yuuto wasn’t gonna let him win that one. 

They never really exchanged many words in the mornings, only small gestures and facial expressions that spoke a million words, completely different to the other three who lived with them whos’ love language was verbal compliments. This was strange, especially for Yuuto who usually did the speaking for Argonavis, and Wataru who wrote the words that Ren were to sing. But as strange as it was, it was something that they cherished greatly. It meant that the moments that they did spend softly speaking to each other as they cuddled close together on the couch or under the covers of their bed, on the verge of sleep, were so incredibly special. 

They knew they loved each other, they didn’t need much to remind each other because they just knew. One of the ways that Wataru knew was this moment right now as Yuuto handed him his coffee so, so gently and with so much care, not in fear that he would drop it, but more as if this were a sacred exchange between the two. 

_Yeah, he’s still in love with me._

Wataru told Yuuto to come back to bed, but Yuuto shook his head gently as he sat on the edge of the bed, just close enough to be able to press a kiss to Wataru’s face at any given moment without having to stretch too far. The perfect distance for them to be able to speak at an almost whisper tone, a soft tone as they spoke about any dreams they had last night or how the coffee was perfect, Yuuto had just cut the lemon slice slightly too thick. Not that that was a problem or anything, Wataru just liked to tease him.

They stayed like that for about twenty three minutes, just sitting in each other’s presence as they spoke very little about anything and everything, just enjoying that the other was there and still with them. It got to a point where Wataru decided that he needed to actually get up and get ready, to which Yuuto thought about pretending to fall asleep on him as an excuse for them to stay in bed and not have to worry about going to uni, but didn’t really think of any way of doing it successfully. 

And when Wataru was finally ready, they left the sharehouse with a quick goodbye to their bandmates, their friends, no, their family, and a _clank clank_ of Yuuto’s keys. They did argue a little about who was going to drive, but settled on Yuuto because he was ready first and Wataru was _apparently holding them up_ or whatever. But that was okay.

They talked as they left the house and made their way to the car, the bassist talking so, so passionately about how he was absolutely ecstatic to learn about the usage of commas and other punctuation, stuff that he found absolutely beautiful, in postmodern literature today. He looked like the sun as he spoke, all gleaming and shiny, glowing as always but at an even higher intensity. And the guitarist listened to every, single last word, ears wide open and facial expressions softened as he listened to his boyfriend speak about his passions. 

He loved hearing about Wataru’s passions. He could listen to them forever and ever and ever. 

And he did.

He listened to his passion towards literature and words and the beautiful words that left his mouth forever. 

Forever and ever.

-

“That one up there, that’s Lyra… Aquila should be in the sky somewhere too! You know the story of Orihime and Hikoboshi, right, Reon?” 

A quick nod, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it so many times,” there was a slight tone of annoyance in Reon’s voice as he quickly responded to the man next to him, “It’s a pretty popular story, but I guess to you it’s only new, huh?”

He received a grin and a soft nod, a soft smile on Ryo’s face to match the intensity of the nod. 

_Of course Reon knows the story, what the hell are you thinking?_

_I’ve heard the story, I know it well, but I’ve never seen the constellations before. Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn, Reon?!_

They were in the sharehouse’s currently empty living room, the quiet sound of a Blur song - Beetlebum - filling the dead silence of the room from Reon’s phone. The song was on a playlist filled with songs that reminded him of Ryo, songs that he’d listened to before they even got together, songs filled with bass and tones of guitar that weaved together and mixed to create one sound, a union of sounds to create something beautiful, something unique. He’d had this playlist for a while, but only recently told Ryo about it to which the bassist was filled with joy that he had made someone on Earth so happy that he’d go and make a whole playlist that would make him feel as though he was there with him. Something to make him so, so happy when he needed it most. 

There were three big windows in the middle of the wall, two slightly larger than the first, that overlooked the city of Nishishinjuku. Ryo liked to sit on the white, leather couch with his bass and watch as people rushed around the streets below; Reon recalled an interaction with him where he mentioned that the rainy weather was his favourite time to watch because of how people reacted to the rain. Earthlings were fun to watch, especially when they suddenly started running, rushing for shelter and a way to stay dry, possibly fumbling in their bags for an umbrella. They were interesting, he thought. 

The smaller window was slightly above ground, whereas the other two reached the floor, and it was currently open, allowing for the two to sit on the ledge and overlook the city. It was dangerous, absolutely, especially given that the sharehouse was rather close to the top of the building, but thankfully there was a little deck that they could land on if they were to fall.

But that still scared Reon a little, even though he knew he wouldn’t fall. 

Their legs slung over the ledge and both of them had a drink in hand, the bassist often swapping his overly sweet canned drink for a grape lollipop that he held in his other hand. It was a gift from Kenta, the lollipops were, most of his candy were gifts from Kenta now that he thought about it. But that was okay, Reon knew that Kenta and Ryo had a rather brotherly bond and that he would soon know what random pieces of candy were good to give him as a spontaneous gift. 

As for now, he knew that caramels and grape lollipops were his favourites. 

He took a mental note to buy him those next time. But even so, Ryo seemed to like any candy, or any gift from Reon in particular for that matter, _so why the hell am I even worrying about this? It’s candy, Ryo loves any candy and- Fuck, there’s nothing going on between him and Kenta, why would there be? Kenta’s not the one he asked to look at the stars with I am and I’m out here looking at the stars with this absolute idiot who I-_

Reon needed to calm down. He was overthinking things again. 

He knew all too well that Ryo’s love language was talking about the stars. And this moment, right here, was him doing just that. 

The bassist liked to talk about the stars, that was something that everyone in Gyroaxia knew all too well, whether it be stories of his home planet or random facts about how small the moon was compared to the Earth, but there was just something different about how he talked about the stars to Reon. He’d go into detail about how close the star was to both Earth and his home planet and how long it’d take to get there from each as if he were detailing an itinerary for them to meet again when his sins were repented. He’d talk about the lifecycle of the star and where it was in its life, always going into so much detail about supernovas. He seemed to fear supernovas but talked about them as if they were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen in his entire life. He’d just talk about each individual star with such passion, speaking about their beauty as if he were using them as a way to talk about how beautiful Reon was to him. 

Because he thought Reon was absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful and so dangerous, so deadly with the stubborn tongue of his, much like the supernovas he feared most; so, so beautiful yet so terrifying. So enticing. That’s what made him fall in love with him, this connection to the one thing that gives him so much comfort, so much happiness. And here was this man who was just like a star who won him over almost immediately. 

To bring him the same amount of comfort as the stars above was a skill that the guitarist never knew he had. 

Ryo would tell him eventually, but for now he could through a series of metaphors.

And so, there they were, sitting on the windowsill of the sharehouse staring at the stars above. 

Summer was the best time of year to go stargazing, apparently. Tottori was also the best place in Japan to go stargazing, apparently, but they were too far from there - they made a promise to seal their love in the summer in Tottori under the Milky Way in amongst grins and locking lips. That was a promise that neither of them even dared to break. Ryo even promised that if his sins were repented, he’d come back just to keep their promise. 

It was disgustingly romantic, something that Reon would typically hate, but there was just something different about this promise that they made, something romantic in their own way. Maybe it was because it was Ryo and Ryo was… a strange individual… but this exchange of words, a proposal a few years in advance, was nothing like a sappy romance novel. It was different. It was nice. It was comforting. 

The song changed just as Reon rested his head on the other’s shoulder; he didn’t really pay attention to what song it was but he knew that it was a Radiohead song - a band that the two of them looked up to and loved dearly. The one band that absolutely dominated their playlist. The bassist was in the middle of explaining which stars made up _Cyg… Cyg…. Cygnus? Yeah, he said Cygnus_ when Reon’s head nuzzled into the side of his shoulder. It might have seemed like he wasn’t really paying attention, but he was completely absorbed in explaining the shape of the constellation and the history behind it and what stars it’s made up of and all this scientific data that made the other’s head hurt and feel like it was squeezed through a juicer. But even if his head did hurt with how many numbers were spilling out of his boyfriend’s mouth, there was a little fire that had started in his heart, like a little campfire for the two of them. He was enjoying this so much. 

“So, it’s shaped like a bird?” 

“Mh! I think it’s quite cool, actually,” Ryo beamed, finger posed to a point which traced the shape of Cygnus over and over again as if he were trying to memorise it. 

Reon gave a small sound in response before thinking up what to say next. His voice was rather quiet given how close they were together, it was calm, something that the rest of Gyroaxia didn’t ever really see, “I used to make up constellations when I was a kid,” he spoke with a small smile on his face, this memory reminding him of a happy time in his past, a time which gave him so much comfort. 

_Huh, I guess we both find comfort in the stars._

Almost instantly, Ryo responded and the look on his face was on par to the brightness of Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, “You did?! Maybe you even used my star?” 

“Yeah, I probably did,” Reon spoke with a warm tone, not as warm as Ryo’s words but still warm enough to keep the fire in his heart alight. 

There was a bubbling sense of joy inside of Ryo. A series of bubbles filled him up with so much happiness at the thought that Reon may have made a picture in his mind with his home planet; a picture of his own, Reon’s picture, Reon’s constellation partially made up of him. It was wonderful. It was special. It was so, so special.

“You remember where my star is, right?” he asked, now looking directly into the golden, shimmering orbs in the other’s eyes. He didn’t really mind that they didn’t look back at his own, he was just happy that his eyes met with the stars and were looking for where his home was. 

It took him a few moments, ten, twenty seconds, max forty, but that didn’t matter, to find the star in the sky. He’d always look to the sky and try to find it if he got a glimpse of the stars at night and he was getting pretty good at localising it; memorising its place for when Ryo went home and he needed to find where he was. He would be far, but he would know where he was and that’s all that mattered. 

“Mh! That’s it!” He was beaming. 

And then Reon started to make small movements with his finger, sliding through the adjacent stars as if he were doing a dot-to-dot drawing. He didn’t really know what he was drawing, but he knew he was drawing something; a picture made up of stars that just felt right. 

It was his drawing, his constellation. 

As if on cue, Ryo’s hand reached up and hovered next to Reon’s, following as he traced over the picture that he had just drawn as if he were trying to memorise it too. He’d add little details to it, little stretches to stars that felt perfect and little connections to gaps that Reon left empty. It was a picture of nothing in particular, just a drawing in the stars that represented their love, their place in the world and acted as a piece of themselves in the same night sky that they could look up to on their two home planets and draw over, knowing that the other was still there with them. 

It wasn’t anything special, but it was the world to the two of them. 

It was more than the world, even, because that’s what they meant to each other. 

And when they were to seal their love under the Milky Way, they’d trace the same pattern over and over again while wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the soft hum of whatever was playing inside and the diminished buzzing of their friends’ voices. They’d take a step away just to have some time to themselves and find their constellation, knowing that it was the perfect time for this day when they found it. 

And they’d find it and stare up at it with the stupidest grins on their faces, and Ryo would push Reon’s bangs away from his face and just look at him with the most love and adoration ever. 

He’d find the same constellation in the supernovas that were his eyes, and Reon would find the same in his.

-

It was Banri’s idea. It was always Banri’s idea, but this time it was also Rio’s idea. 

They’d been waiting for an evening where Yuuto and Wataru decided to go out for the night, or just one where they knew that they could have the whole livingroom to themselves. The other two had no idea that they had had this in mind, but when Banri overheard Wataru talking about a new, open-late sweets parlour about an hours drive from their home, he knew that it was finally time. They were going to spend the night with Ren and, finally, have a night just to the three of them. 

Planning this was hard, especially given that the three of them shared the same room, but the two of them were thankful that their classes were nowhere near the law department and could meet up in the quick ten minutes between classes, or pass notes to each other as they walked past each other in the halls; slipping a folded up piece of paper filled with ideas on how they were going to do this. 

It was spontaneous, like Banri, but it was quite detailed in how they were actually going to do it without Ren finding out, like Rio. A mix of the two personalities to make a blend that would be absolutely perfect for their boyfriend. 

Thankfully, Ren had a class that didn’t end until five in the afternoon and wouldn’t get back until about six; the other two both finished much earlier in the day, giving them a few hours longer to prepare everything. Rio had stopped by a bakery that apparently sold the best cookies ever, according to Wataru, and grabbed about a dozen of them, just enough for the three of them to share, and a few custard puddings, the ones in the cups with the sphere of golden caramel at the top. 

It was the best little cafe and Rio was reluctant to admit that he was glad that Wataru suggested it, but Banri knew that he was truly grateful. It was about halfway between their uni campus and home, down a few side streets that lead to this wonderful area, both sides of the road lined with cafes and other food stalls and always someone busking in the centre of the quad in front of a water fountain. It was one of the smaller buildings, a little cottage shoved in between a ramen stall and an Italian restaurant. It had an inviting presence, covered in the colours green and off-white, little decorations of painted metal hooks and spirals all along the front where the roof ended and a few crystals hanging from them, all creating little rainbows that littered the ground where the keyboardist’s feet were. 

There was a little bird hanging from one of the grape vines that dangled off of the roof when Rio left with his purchases, it reminded him of Ren. He smiled a little at the bird’s song, watching as it hopped from one vine to the other, having the happiest time of its life.

By the time he got home, it was nearing four in the afternoon and he was starting to worry that they might not have had enough time to get everything done before Ren arrived, but he was pleasantly surprised when he found Banri drumming at the sides of the living room’s door frame with the widest grin on his face.

With a relieved sigh Rio’s shoulders relaxed, “I assume everything’s under control?”

Banri gave a quick nod and gestured for him to come in and see what he had set up, “Just gotta close the curtains so he doesn’t see what’s happenin’ in here! But I think this is fine!”

Rio nodded softly, admiring his boyfriend’s work for a few moments before remembering the baked goods in his bag. Banri gleamed as he pulled them out and rushed to the kitchen to grab one of their _really nice plates that never get used for anything_ and held it out to him, arms straightened as if they were trying to grow longer to scoop the cookies up onto it. The other immediately understood what he was trying to do and poured the cookies out, not before he had taken the pudding cups out to place in the fridge later, though. The plate was placed inside of Banri’s creation, amongst other sweets and other little surprises that were to be uncovered soon. 

So now. They wait. 

Ren had no idea that they had planned to surprise him, nor did he have any idea that both Yuuto and Wataru had gone out for the night, so he’d be more likely to go straight to their bedroom to recharge before heading into the living room, so they thought it’d be best to wait for him there and take him out to their little set up later. And they did, they sat on their queen sized bed - which was surprisingly enough room for the three of them to sleep comfortably in - with Rio at the very end and Banri’s head rested on his lap as he laid across the bed diagonally. The keyboardist had one hand threaded in the drummer’s hair, pushing his blonde bangs out of his eyes so his forehead was exposed, but Rio didn’t really pay attention to his forehead, all that he cared about was how Banri’s hair was really soft and super nice to play with. 

They stayed like that for a while, just sitting as they chatted about their day and how it absolutely sucks keeping something this special from Ren, but it’d be worth it because Ren deserves the world and he doesn’t think he’s as special as he is - they just wanted to give him a moment to realise that he was loved immensely by his boyfriends. They chatted about anything that came to mind in that moment, lost in each other’s presence and gravity drawing them into each other. Banri’s personal favourite story was the one Rio told about a man covered in green, one from another rival band, almost causing a fight in the middle of the business department’s common area - he laughed until he almost lost his breath, almost falling off of the bed as well, losing his absolute mind at the story. 

He knew exactly who he was. And, yeah, that didn’t sound very out of character for him. 

An hour or so had passed by the time they heard the little barks of Ponchan at the door, a sign that someone was on the other side of it. It must’ve been Ren because of how the little dog had calmed almost immediately and there was a small collection of hellos and how was your day, Ponchan? and a few laughs that could cure anyone’s sadness almost immediately, bubbling through the house and letting that joy spread everywhere it so pleased. 

A few steps and a hum to the tune of whatever was playing through a pair of headphones and then the blue boy was at the door of the bedroom, expression brightening upon seeing the two on their bed, “Ah, you’re home, where’s Yuuto and Wataru?”

Almost as if on cue, the two of them spoke at once in the exact same serious tone, “Out.” 

Ren was taken aback by this, startled, and it showed in the tone of his voice, “Oh… They didn’t say where they went did they?” He almost sounded worried. Strange. 

“No, why? Did you need them?” Rio asked in a completely normal tone, as if they didn’t just pull the most suspicious stunt ever a few moments ago. 

Damn, he was a good actor. 

The vocalist shook his head quickly, hands shaking at the same intensity to shake away any misunderstanding “No no no! I just wondered why it was so quiet in here.”

They exchanged a few words about how it was quiet because both Rio and Banri wanted some quiet time instead of having something playing in the background. They’d usually have someone’s Spotify playlist playing in the background as they laid in their bedroom together, but something about both of our phones being so far away a lie, they were in their pockets _and I can’t really be bothered putting anything on… I’m just gonna skip every song._

Ren seemed to believe it. He never really doubted anyone. 

After a few moments of talking and peppering each other’s faces in small kisses, Banri sat up and hopped off the bed in one motion, almost as if he were something out of a cartoon or a dream. Hands on his hips and grin reaching his ears, he spoke in a determined tone, “Well now that it’s just the three of us! Come, come, come! We’ve prepared something for you, Ren Nanahoshi!” 

“Eh?! Me?!”

“Yes you!! Now come on!!” The drummer reached forward and grabbed his hand, giving it a small squeeze before dragging him to the lounge. Rio followed behind, catching Ren’s eyes as he looked back with a questioning look and an outstretched hand which he took, also giving it a small squeeze as they connected together like a three hooped chain. A chain that would not break, a chain that would stick together through everything that would come their way. 

Ren was confused, entirely confused as to what had gotten into the other two and _why were they dragging me here, what’s so special about the living room anyway?_ He wasn’t scared, he was never scared of their antics, especially how spontaneous Banri was, and this outburst was oddly comforting. It was confusing, but Ren knew that they had planned something absolutely incredible just for him. 

What he was met with in the living room was something out of a nostalgic memory, pulled out of his mind and placed into the room right in front of him. The two had set up a few chairs in the shape of a lopsided square and laid a few blankets over the top of them, clipping them to the chairs with brightly coloured, all different colours of the rainbow, pegs from the laundry. There was a little opening on one side of the structure, blankets pulled to one side and clipped with another peg, exposing the inside. 

There were a collection of pillows, all from the couches and from their bed - which Ren surprisingly didn’t notice were gone when he was in their room just before - and a few more blankets on the floor, a spare duvet from their guest bedroom and a weighted blanket on top of those to create an even cozier display. Little twinkling vines, like the grape vines Rio saw hours earlier, were dangling all around the roof of the structure, shining like little stars, like the little stars that shone brightly in the sky the night before. A quiet tune played inside, slightly too quiet to be heard from outside but not too loud to be disruptive inside. It was a pleasant tune, one that Ren listened to when he needed to relax and focus on his studies - Star Five was bad for this, he’d get too enveloped in the intense feelings that the song gave off. It was a chill tune, one that instantly relaxed him.

_I can hear music,_  
I can hear music,  
The sound of the city baby seems to disappear 

And it did, the sound of the buzzling city was drowned out in this moment, replacing itself with whatever sounds were happening here and now. This is all that mattered. Their little cave, their little hideout, that’s all that mattered. 

Grinning, Ren squeezed both of their hands tightly as if he were thanking them without words. They’d gotten used to Ren’s form of expressing his love and how he often got anxious in social interactions, often opting for physical touch and words without voices. The two of them squeezed back, a silent communication and a silent conveying of appreciation. Ren loved this, he thought it was one of the best things that someone had ever done for him; he was overjoyed. 

And then, he dragged the two of them inside, it was a little bit of a squeeze at first, but they managed, being close to each other and squeezed up against each other’s sides was one thing that the three of them loved most. He was in awe at how everything around them seemed to glow, twinkling around them and illuminating the details on each of their faces, painting a perfect picture of them all in this soft light. 

They stayed like that for the evening, up until Yuuto and Wataru arrived home with dinner and sat there in each other’s presence, showing each other videos on their phones and just enjoying this chance that they had in their little hide away. It was different, it was nice, it was a warm little cave for them to just sit and drown out the world around them. Their little home where the three of them sat, engulfed in each other’s presence and so, so filled with love and adoration for the others. Bottomless love for the others, eternal and absolutely incredible love that shone with the soft lights around them.

-

Misaki hated it when his hair started to grow out. All the dark strands plaguing the green as if they were a virus starting to take over. He hated it, it looked ugly to him. He thought it made him look ugly, a reminder of a past that he’d rather forget and drown out with a bottle of bleach and a green potion. Bright green potions did instill great hope in the one who drank it, after all. That, and damage resistance and all that - damage resistance to the past that came to haunt him again. 

Fuuta liked it when Misaki’s hair started to grow out. Not because his childhood friend Misaki was coming back, that Misaki never left, but because he could help him destroy that past that he wanted to destroy. 

It was a boiling hot summer’s day, the kind that forced Misaki into muscle tops and showed off his strong arms. The kind that Aoi decided to spend outside with Kouhei, homemade milkshakes in hand as they sat there engulfed in each other's presence. They’d wake up early, the other three members still tucked away in their beds; Yamato sometimes slept with Fuuta and Misaki whenever he wanted platonic affection. That was something that was hard to get used to, but the band agreed that Yamato’s platonic affection was something great. It was nice.

The sharehouse was always bustling with noise, there was never really a moment where it wasn’t loud, especially in the summer. There would always be a ska playlist in the background, not too loud to be disturbing everyone and not too quiet to be irritatingly hard to hear, someone would be talking to Rex, usually Yamato who would promise him he’d grow up to be a big dinosaur one day, and the living room would always be occupied, filled with people chatting or practicing for their next live. 

This was one of those days, but strangely enough, the living room was entirely empty. Still loud and full of life, but no one was there. It was almost as if it were waiting for someone. 

Maybe people were avoiding it because it was so messy, things haphazardly thrown over the furniture and instruments left out and drumsticks lost in the pits of the most bizarre places. They were so busy and didn’t really have a chance to clean everything, but Kouhei was convinced that it was because no one wanted to clean and they were just using being busy as an excuse. 

There was a slam of the front door and the sound ricocheted throughout the halls, echoing and making its way into every room. It announced its presence, announcing the presence of the equally as loud individual who had caused the door to yell as well. It was a grand entrance, of course it was. 

Misaki liked to have grand entrances like this. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He was loud, loud enough to give one an earache for weeks. He was like an alarm, but not the kind that was annoying, the type that you were annoyed at at first, but once you were up you were somewhat thankful that it woke you up. He was like a siren, something so blatantly annoying but so, so comforting at the same time. And this was no exception, his entrance was loud enough to jolt everyone out of their seats. 

In his hands were two potion bottles; one pale blue and the other bright green. He rushed into the living room and slammed them both down on the coffee table in the middle of the room that was littered with lyrics and trombone score, and looked down at them with the biggest grin on his face. Arms turned into a pretzel across his chest, he looked at them proudly as if he were ready to defeat a red dragon from Kouhei’s tabletop stories. 

They were the strongest of all the dragons.

And he was going to beat this one. He was sure of it. 

Not two seconds later, the siren began to ring again, “Oi, Fuuta! C’mere!!” His voice blared through the halls, reaching Fuuta who was staring at the little star stickers on their bedroom roof. Misaki never left his place when he needed to get someone in another room. He’d just stay in his place and use his big, megaphone voice to call them - it was annoying, yeah, but was it effective? 

Also yeah. 

In an instant, there was an orange flash and a clank clank of pin badges of all kinds whacking against each other on a denim jacket. And then, Fuuta was there in front of him with a curious look on his face. It was odd for him to have this expression, usually he’d have a wide grin or something along those lines, but a curious expression where his lips were turned into a pout leant towards the right side of his face, one eyebrow furrowed and the other pointed upwards and his head on an angle, leaning to the left as if he were trying to see Misaki in a new light.

What was even better was that the drummer didn’t expect him to look like this at all and was completely taken aback, forcing him to hide the visible affection he held for this man but utterly failing; his bottom lip quivering as he tried to force back a smile. 

Fortunately, Fuuta didn’t notice any of this and continued to look at the drummer with curious eyes. Not curious as to why he was acting like he was, but curious as to why he had called him here, “Soooooo~ What’d you need Misa?” 

“Ah! Yes! Y-Yeah! I call’d ya’ here didn’t I?” Flustered, he turned to pick up the two bottles and hold them in front of him as if he were presenting a box of Valentine’s chocolates to a crush of his, “Help me dye my hair again….”

In truth this was like presenting a box of Valentine’s chocolates to a crush. Misaki had a strange interest in having Fuuta help him with his hair - not that he couldn’t do it himself because he was adamant on telling everyone that he could do it on his own. It was intimate, perfectly intimate and a perfect way to get all affectionate and let Fuuta touch him without having to worry about his _tough, delinquent_ facade. It was tiring keeping up that facade, but he lived for moments like these where he could just let go. He wasn’t sure if Fuuta knew why he was asking him to help, but he kinda hoped he did. He’d tell him another day. Maybe. 

Fuuta gleamed at the idea and reached forward to grab the two bottles, a bright smile now radiating from his face. He looked just like the sun, a mighty cleric that would help him on his journey to defeat the big, red dragon which flew atop of Misaki. Fighter and cleric, hand-in-hand working together as a two man party to defeat the most deadly of the evils. 

They were going to win this and neither of them would go down without a fight. 

It took them about twenty minutes to set up, somehow, but they’d finally set up a little station in the living room with Fuuta sitting on a chair from the unused dining room and Misaki sitting in front of him on the wooden floor. They had to clean up a little bit to create room for them, but it wasn’t really cleaning because everything that was in the middle of the room now drowned Yamato’s guitar on the left hand side of the room, engulfing it into a sea of random things that people in Fuujin Rizing had left on the ground. They’d clean it up later, it would be fine! They’d totally clean everything up once they were done here! 

That was a lie. 

The normal ska music wasn’t playing in the background anymore, rather replaced for a baseball game on the newly fixed TV. The two of them often often watched baseball together, but right now it was just an old match that played in the background as a form of background music as Fuuta laced gloved hands through the drummer’s hair and painted them yellow before painting a second layer of green. It was nice to have something different to ska in the background, ska was their whole world, but it was so, so wonderful to have something different, a change of pace. It fit the mood, too, because instead of ska, something that everyone in Fuujin Rizing had a shared interest in, it was something that only these two shared. Their little form of music. Their own tune that made them feel safe. 

Both of them talked a lot and they were both super loud, even when they were right next to each other, so as the two of them sat there laughing about how Misaki left his insurance card in his pants in the wash again, or how Yamato stared at Rex for a solid five minutes - Fuuta swears - without blinking, their voices grew until they blossomed and filled the whole room with life. It wasn’t silent anymore. It was full of so much sunlight and so much happiness that even the messiness of it didn’t bring the mood down. 

Just the two of them engulfed in each other’s presence.

One thing that they did go over while waiting for the bleach in Misaki’s hair was how _absolutely stupid_ the two of them were before getting together. The drummer mumbled and groaned about how he had done everything to get Fuuta’s attention to the point where he’d stopped trying and started avoiding him and- 

“Ohhhhh so that’s why you were acting all weird!” The vocalist’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as he spoke, a lightbulb brightening above his head, “I thought you just didn’t like me or something… Thought you made new friends..”

Misaki sighed, wishing that he didn’t have bleach in his hair so that he could let his face fall into his hands and tug at his hair in annoyance - he didn’t do that, he wasn’t stupid, well, not that stupid, “It got tiring and I wanted to be affectionate with ya’ but I just couldn’t take it anymore and had to take a lil’ break… It was a bit dramatic now that I think of it..” 

Fuuta snorted a little as he played with one of the plastic gloves on his hands, listening to the crinkling sounds they made, “I liked Yamato at the time, but he rejected me and it all makes sense now, but at the time I thought he was the coolest guy ever! Well, he’s still pretty cool but he’s not you!” 

Grinning, Misaki turned his head so that he could look up at him from over his shoulder, “So all my hard work paid off then, eh?” 

The only response he got was a quick, enthusiastic nod which caused the little lightning bolt on the top of the redhead’s head to bounce back and forth with joy. And that’s the only response that Misaki really needed. Non-verbal communication was weird for them, given the fact that both of their love languages were words of affirmation, but this little nod of the head spoke volumes to Misaki. It spoke a million words and told him word for word how much his actions were worth it - if he hadn’t kept showering a completely oblivious Fuuta Kaminoshima in compliments and random gifts, then he wouldn’t be here with that same oblivious idiot in a completely domestic, yet totally not, position. He’d still have Kouhei fixing his hair up for him.

And Fuuta brought that up with him when the green was ready to be washed out, the moment in which they were about to bring the dragon down to zero health points, “Didn’t Kou-nii help you the first time you did this?”

“Mh,” he responded with his head over the tub and a towel running through his hair, drying it and removing all traces of water. 

Fuuta waited a few moments before speaking again, opting to lean on the bathroom’s door frame and crossing his arms before speaking again, “Why do you ask me to do it now?”

“Dunno.. Just feels right.” 

And then he looked in the mirror, proud of a full head of green and fully knowing that they had slain the dragon.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day!! I’ve always wanted to do something for Valentine’s Day so here’s a bunch of little moments in some of my AAside ships’ lives
> 
> Title is a reference to Arrow by Polite Fiction which actually reminds me of NayuKen lol
> 
> Thank you so much to my ever wonderful pal [JoHoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoHoes) for betaing this <3 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed and I really hope there was a ship in this that you love, until next time ~


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